


how darkly the dark hand met his end

by sidnihoudini



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Murder Anniversary, Murder Husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:05:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5875450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidnihoudini/pseuds/sidnihoudini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beside the bed, a small Tiffany lamp throws off golden light, and the ‘Guide to Paris’ pamphlet Hannibal has been eyeing warily all day sits folded beneath Will’s glasses.  After falling asleep on the plane, one of the plastic arms now sits slightly higher than the other against the paper surface.  These small parts of Will that he has come to know so intimately fill Hannibal up in ways that he cannot describe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	how darkly the dark hand met his end

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [curveofherthroat](http://curveofherthroat.tumblr.com)'s Color Palette challenge:
> 
>  
> 
> _Write a Hannigram fic between 100-1500 words with a specific color palette (2-3 colors that go together). Post your ficlet to tumblr and tag three people + curveofherthroat_

_BRONZE_

For all of the places Will has never been, it surprises Hannibal how quickly he takes to Paris.

As they stand staring up at the Eiffel Tower, Will tries to quantify how strange it is to look at something he has only ever seen in pictures and on TV.

“It’s not as big as I thought it would be,” He admits, and then laughs a little, head tilted all the way back as he looks up at the tallest point of the structure.

Hannibal has seen the Eiffel Tower many times, through many different ages. The building architecture he encountered when first moving to Baltimore was a stranger sight than the familiar wrought iron lattice in front of him now. He finds himself watching Will’s expression instead of the other tourists milling about, taking photos and wandering between line-ups.

“It never is,” Hannibal muses, lips curving in a smile as Will elbows him and laughs again.

They wander away from the tower, through flocks of pigeons and past vendors peddling various wares. It is strange to enjoy something that is so privately familiar with someone else. To a secret, hidden part of Hannibal, it feels a lot like showing Will pieces of his youth.

If Hannibal could introduce Will to his sister and his mother, he would. But he doesn’t have them anymore, and so he will show Will his favorite places, instead.

These cities are as much of Hannibal as any family member would have been.

*

_NAVY_

When Hannibal remembers this night, he will think first of Will, and then that of the deep blue sky.

Love. It is something Hannibal was never truly able to cut his teeth on. For a very long time it made little sense, other than within the context of what he learned from childhood books and, later in life, psychology texts.

To care for someone in that way seemed disingenuous. Dangerous, even.

He doesn’t know when he truly fell in love with Will, because he has so little to compare their relationship to. Now that he is able to look back on all of the fractured years that have led them to this night, he knows that he loves Will as much as he is capable of loving anything at all.

“What are you thinking about?” Will grins, sharp in that way that only he ever is, even as his eyes radiate warmth.

Will brings his wine glass up to rest against his bottom lip and stares at Hannibal openly, waiting for an answer. He has volleyed, and he expects a return.

“The way things work out,” Hannibal murmurs. His fingers coast over the expensive table linens. The picture windows behind Will frame the night sky beautifully; and, for one quick second, Hannibal swears he feels like he is falling over that cliff one more time. “The moment you realize they have.”

Every now and then, infrequently but with a certain unwavering regularity, Hannibal says something that makes Will’s eyes light up. It’s how Will responds when he is taken by surprise, and thrown into the deep end of the way Hannibal feels for him.

Now, Will visibly melts, bewildered at the response.

For all the moments Hannibal once spent deciding he could not feel love, Will sat in equal measure - cities and states and sometimes entire countries away - wondering if he would ever be able to accept the same feeling.

*

_GOLD_

The hotel is high-end. Not because it is something Hannibal requires; more than that, it is something that he would like Will to experience.

Beside the bed, a small Tiffany lamp throws off golden light, and the ‘Guide to Paris’ pamphlet Hannibal has been eyeing warily all day sits folded beneath Will’s glasses. After falling asleep on the plane, one of the plastic arms now sits slightly higher than the other against the paper surface. These small parts of Will that he has come to know so intimately fill Hannibal up in ways that he cannot describe.

He feels his eyes close and open again slowly, as his fingers continue to drag up and down the back of Will’s arm.

“When Molly and I had an anniversary, we went to Denny’s,” Will murmurs, lips moving against Hannibal’s chest.

Without meaning to, Hannibal’s fingers still against Will’s warm skin. He feels Will close his eyes, eyelashes brushing against his own bare chest.

“I will not comment,” He finally manages, blinking up at the ceiling. Hannibal would never admit how the weight of the words stick tightly in the back of his throat.

Chuckling, voice low and husky, Will stretches his body out, toes bumping against Hannibal’s ankles as he moves. Hannibal holds his breath, and waits as Will settles over him, revelling in the feeling of Will tucking his forehead against the side of Hannibal’s throat, and the slide of his palm over the front of Hannibal’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry,” Will yawns, hot breath warming Hannibal’s chest. Somehow the sensation kickstarts Hannibal’s faculties, and he finds his hand moving again, now over the line of Will’s spine. Up and down, from the nape of Will’s neck to the bare, still sweaty skin of his tailbone. “I know you wouldn’t go to a Denny’s.”

Something small that lives in the very back of Hannibal’s brain knows that he would eat wherever and whenever Will asked him to.

“A correct assumption,” Hannibal lies. The ceiling disappears from view as he closes his eyes against the now familiar lamp light, and the golden color of Will’s skin stretched so openly before him.

Will laughs softly and settles himself deeper, until there is no part of Hannibal’s body that he does not touch.

“Happy anniversary,” He adds, a few moments later, tilting his head to kiss Hannibal’s throat sleepily.

Opening his eyes, Hannibal picks his head up from the pillow, and tilts to press his mouth against the crown of Will’s head in return.

“And to you, my darling,” He murmurs, drowned.

*

_i'll stick with you baby_  
_for a_  
_thousand years_

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on [tumblr](http://bonedaddies.tumblr.com)!


End file.
